


Cat and Mouse Game

by menthechocolat



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Gloves, M/M, Masturbation, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-06
Updated: 2018-01-06
Packaged: 2019-02-28 22:18:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13280997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/menthechocolat/pseuds/menthechocolat
Summary: While stalking the Phantom Thieves, Goro learns quickly that the hunter can become the hunted at the slip of the hand. How far can a curious mouse push his luck when there is a perceptive feline trying to sniff him out?





	Cat and Mouse Game

“Honestly. They’ve made this far too easy.” Akechi Goro muttered from behind a flashy street advertisement for some new stage-play musical as he secretly watched an unknowing mix-matched group of teenagers from the opposite side of the street. He captured several photos of them together on his phone, sneering as he zoomed in on their leader. He snapped a photo of him lazily playing with his dark tresses, curling the pieces at his brow with his forefinger.

Kurusu Akira.

_Fuck that guy._

He was the most plain and unassuming person that Goro had ever laid eyes on, but then he would talk and out would pour words that questioned everything the ace detective stood for. He never failed to somehow piss him off and put a crack in his manufactured disposition. It was infuriating that it was at the same time a huge turn on. Not recently, but most of the masses at one time agreed and praised him for his opinions. Not Akira, though. Quite the opposite. The first time they spoke that arrogant prick just had to open his mouth during a television recording and challenge him in front of a whole live audience.

Oh the things he could do to that mouth.

Goro cursed quietly when he found himself unintentionally taking pictures of Kurusu from behind. He really needed to stop letting his mind wander in such a way. This was his mortal enemy he was fantasizing about- the leader of the Phantom Thieves. But his smile was just a little too bewitching, his way of speaking to the detective borderlining flirty and conniving. It was no wonder Goro’s mind was running in circles; was he chasing Akira or was Akira chasing him? It was all so vexing. But he just couldn’t help but be drawn to him. Goro enjoyed each of their private conversations, though they had been few in number and short in time, each occasion was, in a way, refreshing and genuine. Goro liked Akira more than he would admit to anyone, especially himself.

The street was pretty quiet, so he could somewhat make out what they were saying.

“Hopefully this will be a quick trip, then. Everyone ready?” Nijima asked the group. They all nodded with their phones out, and accessed their metanav apps.

“Showtime,” he heard Kurusu’s voice remark in a singsong way as their bodies began to flicker. Goro didn’t know whether the cheesy line made him want to gag or furiously make out with their charismatic leader.

Goro made sure to switch over to record video as they slowly dematerialized into thin air. A smile split across his face once they were completely gone. He giggled and shook his head at the Phantom Thieves lack of foresight as he closed out his camera app. His plan was going along quite well, and he thought himself very clever as he went to lock the screen to his phone. Unfortunately, one of his fingers brushed across an app that he had sitting in the corner of his screen. His own eyes widened in horror and his stomach spun and sunk as he felt himself slowly being sucked into the metaverse, directly into Okumura’s palace where the Phantom Thieves had just infiltrated.

He wanted to scream, but that wouldn’t stop the inevitable. He was absolutely screwed.

He could feel the deep rumble in his chest of his persona laughing darkly, the monochrome trickster was sickly amused at the awful situation his host was in. The materialization into the palace was silent, but he unfortunately found himself displayed before the Phantom Thieves, snug blue and black bodysuit, billowing black cape, and his damning black mask and helmet on his crown.

Or, at least, he materialized right behind the Phantom Thieves as they all stared in awe at the window view of the twinkling starry sky inside the spaceship palace. In a flash he was hiding behind a control panel as he tried to maintain his heart rate down to a normal pace. His nostrils flared as he sucked air in and out quickly and quietly. That was close, too close for comfort. Had his cover been blown how would he have explained himself out of that predicament? Not even he was that great of an actor to spin such an obvious situation. The Phantom Thieves were stupid about a lot of things, but they weren’t that stupid. Especially not that orange-haired kid. She turned around to peek at where Goro had stood just a moment ago, but casually shrugged and spun back around to the group.

“Is something the matter, Oracle?” he heard a voice ask.

“Yeah, yeah. Everything is cool. Just thought we had something in our rearview, NBD.”

_Oracle? Who was he speaking to?_

“Okay, one more time! Skull. What are you going to do if we see Mona in here?”

_Uhhh, what?_

“I know, I know! Geez.” an exasperated sigh, “Get off my back, Panther! I’ll apologize or whatever.”

“I really hope you don’t take such an attitude, or we are never getting him back. Isn’t that right, Joker?”

“Queen has a point. Mind your manners and be a good boy, okay?”

His heart gave an honest and shameless pang when he heard that rich, baritone voice finally speak up. The simple, syrupy sound rumbled pleasantly in his ears, then reverberated in his chest, and made his blood run a faster course through his body. Goro bit his bottom lip. Cautiously, he peered around the cold steel panels he was hiding behind to take a look at the group.

He recognized them all, and realized quickly that they were speaking in code names. Sakura was in a black bodysuit with huge goggles strapped onto her tiny head. She didn’t carry a weapon so perhaps she was a support to the group. He could easily say Kitagawa was the one practically hovering over her like a protective statue with a long katana in hand. His lanky, obvious features couldn’t be hidden by a mere fox mask. Sakamoto was also obvious with his bleached blonde hair popping out in every direction and in strange pirate attire. Takamaki was in some sort of dominatrix red vinyl catsuit that squeaked as she moved, the noises less of a comedic exposure of her position but more of a threat to any that would dare cross her. Goro mentally reminded himself to never get on her bad side, or Nijima’s for that matter. She looked like she came straight from a biker gang hideout and her aura emanated aggression. But Kurusu-

Goro quickly inhaled through his nose as an intrinsic reaction, a mere glance at his crush in his thief outfit made his cheeks flush and his heart rate skyrocket yet again. He forced himself to turn back to his hiding spot and clench his eyes shut. Although he had only gotten the smallest of glances at Kurusu from behind, the image was still there taunting him behind his eyelids.

He just looked like a handsome thief from a film, the epitome of cool elegance with an unapologetic devious air. His dark coat fell from the tall mantle at his neck down nearly to his ankles like a billowing shadow, and his pants, while not fitted, still looked flattering and bunched down to his heeled boots. And they called him Joker? It really suited both his getup and attitude. What the actual fuck. He hated himself for thinking that was really cool.

“Since Skull has energy to burn, he’ll be in the vanguard. Fox and Panther too. We need to carve through whatever shadows we see quickly. Don’t hold back. Burn through them. And Queen? Sorry, but can you be their support?”

“Oh, sure, but what about you…?”

“I’ll be hanging back with Oracle, so if she senses Mona I can react quickly. I have faith in your abilities.”

“We’ll make you proud, Joker!”

“Thanks everyone. Let’s get to it then.”

Goro allowed himself to carefully look around the corner in time to see Kurusu, no, Joker pull at his red gloves to better situate and tighten them before following his teammates cautiously. Goro waited until he could only hear the light tapping of his boots into the next room before standing from the hiding spot he had pressed himself behind. He shifted his weight from foot to foot as he bit at the thumb of one of his clawed gloves anxiously. He knew this palace like the back of his hand, he had been here enough times on his own. He knew every room, every hallway, every hiding place, every secret passage. All rational thought told him to get out immediately. It was dangerous here while the Phantom Thieves were fumbling and finding their way through what was unknown to them. Who knew what paths they would take, which hidden secrets they might discover? He had what he needed and had only escaped exposure by a thin margin…

So why then did he begin to silently tail them?

Goro crept along each dark shadow and kept his eyes peeled to Joker’s back, careful to keep his distance from the thieves’ supervisor. He kept his breathing even, his footsteps light. Something in the detective urged him forward, encouraged him to fulfill an irritating seed of desire that rooted in his mind and bloomed in his heart. He had seen Joker, that was true, but he didn’t get the opportunity to see his face. That was apparently reason enough for him to risk everything just to get the quickest, smallest glimpse to satiate his curiosity. What sort of mask did he wear? How did his face look framed between the mantle of his coat and his unruly ink black hair? What sort of expression did he wear when they ambushed shadows? How did it change when he was attacked? Goro would do anything to see it all, even though it was a foolish and risky inclination.

In one particular large and open room, he deftly clawed his way up to the various twisting metallic pipes on the high ceiling. With the flexibility of a seasoned contortionist, he was able to fold himself through and huddle between the lattice and the actual ceiling, concealing himself from their eyes. The team defeated the few enemies that were there, though it seemed like they were struggling against each foe. He couldn’t help but roll his eyes. Even with four people attacking they still had issues. Goro felt some pride slowly balloon inside of him, but another thought came like a quick pin prick to deflate when he remembered that his solitary gallivanting didn’t come without several cuts, bruises, and near death experiences.

He raised an eyebrow when he saw Sakura whisper something to Kurusu, and afterwards the two of them seemed to be looking around the room for something. The leader motioned for everyone to go ahead and Goro slowly felt a creeping sense of unease constrict him. Had he somehow been discovered?

Once Kurusu was alone, he shoved his hands into his pockets and looked around the room as if he was expecting something to happen. Goro knelt down and peered at him carefully from his vantage point. He was obscured completely in curtains of darkness, invisible to even the most careful observer. There was absolutely no way he would notice him. He just wanted to see Joker’s face, if even for just for a moment.

Akira looked up to practically meet his gaze dead on, and Goro swore his heart froze.

“Hey, Mona…?” his voice and expression tainted with worry.

Was he looking for his missing teammate? Whatever. It didn’t matter because he was basically looking straight at him, and Goro’s mind was blocked from focusing on any thought other than those beautiful slate grey eyes shining curiously behind his pointed white and black mask.

Those clear, sharp eyes studied the whole ceiling corner to corner carefully with his lips in a thin serious line, but it didn’t last long. He pulled out his dagger with flourish, an impish grin spread crookedly across his face.

“Huh. Maybe not Mona, but something, maybe someone, else?”

Goro’s hands balled into tight fists, but he continued to just watch, assured that there was absolutely no way he could see or sense him.

“What? Won’t you come on down and play with me?” Joker’s eyes were searching the room, his coat fluttering with him as he turned about to examine his surroundings, but it was no use. The ceiling was high and there were ventilation shafts and huge twisting pipes everywhere, too many different places that someone could hide unseen. He knew something was there, but he was ignorant to what it was exactly which created a mounting tension in the expansive area, it was a cat and mouse game.

“No? Not even a little bit? ‘Cmon. I won’t bite...unless you‘re into it.”

Joker continued to study the room while spinning his knife expertly between his dexterous hands, an evil grin absolutely oozing confidence gracing his lips while still spouting dares for an unknown variable to challenge him. Goro was genuinely surprised to see this side of him so brazenly out in the open. He perhaps saw a glimpse of it from time to time, a smirk after a snide comment, a skip in his step after besting the detective in their verbal chess games. It wasn’t new, but it was absolutely overwhelming to see but in the most captivating way. After a minute he sighed in disappointment and took off in the direction that his teammates went.

Goro had gotten what he wanted; Joker was everything he wished for and more. It only took him a few minutes to maneuver his way back to the outside world.

When he arrived at Shibuya station, his head was spinning with incredible quickness as though it was off of its axis and out of control. Consequently, the surging adrenaline wasn’t unpleasant, but empowering. He found the nearest men’s restroom, and walked straight past the urinals into one of the few vacant stalls. Shibuya station was one of the busiest stations in Tokyo and he found the only bathroom that was completely unoccupied by luck. His anxiety must’ve been caused from all of the close encounters happening back to back, but he felt wired and jittery. He felt like trapped electricity and could only think of one way to expend all of the excess.

He unbuckled his belt, hurriedly popped the button on his pants, and slid the zipper down smoothly to finally pull out his half hardened cock from the agonizing imprisonment of his slim black slacks.

“Fuck…” he couldn’t help but angrily mutter in a muffle with one of his black gloves between his teeth as he took his member into his sloppily spit soaked palm. He knew he had been turned on as simply as a light switch from the suave thief he riskily stalked minutes ago. Goro disappointed himself by how easily his body gave into such based desires, all it took was the sight of him to have him longing for more of his charming antithesis. He screwed his eyes shut with a frustrated curse.

Only to snap them open in shock as Joker deftly pulls off the entirety of his helmet while straddling Akechi in his hiding place from earlier. It was hardly large enough to be considered crawl space so they were twined together, Joker grinning above him with his back only inches from the ceiling while Akechi’s arms are trapped by Joker’s thighs, his spine painfully pressed to the twisted steel pipes, cold and uncomfortable through his thin outfit. His heart was pounding hard and unrelenting into his chest from excitement of being discovered in his daydream. Goro grit his teeth into the leather of his black glove as he touched himself to the debased thought of being taken advantage of by the one person he should not be seeking gratification from.

“Didn’t realize this was hide and seek, but I guess I've won. Nice to meet you, Black Mask, or perhaps I should say it’s nice to see you again, Akechi-kun.” Joker would huskily chuckle, his warm breath on the now unmasked detective’s face, the scent of spiced cinnamon and fresh coffee clinging to his dark clothing and the wafting exhale of his laugh. Intoxicating.

Of course the trickster’s expert hands know exactly where to go as they smoothly slide down the front of Akechi’s snug striped bodysuit, one hand moves insistently against the spandex trapping his cock while the other finds his mouth. Joker would slide two fingers past his lips and down his throat, roughly pumping and swirling them against Akechi’s warm, slippery tongue. Goro whimpered aloud at the thought of those red gloves on his taste buds, while he tasted the leather of his own in reality and clenched his teeth into the material with his jaw locked.

Joker would pull his hand away from Goro’s mouth quickly with a laugh and shake the sting of the bite from his fingers.

“So fiesty for a trapped mouse.”

And Joker would replace those gloved fingers with his own lips and tongue, coaxing him to open more so that he might explore. Goro sighed in satisfaction and allowed himself to moan aloud as he imagined that same dirty mouth that dared to speak out against him pressed hungrily against his own, and he felt himself throb from how bizarrely sexy it could be to make out with his mortal enemy.

Joker might pull away, lick his swollen lips, and murmur something like “Good boy.” The thought causes Goro’s other less active hand to clench and pound the side of the stall with a whimper from the idea that he might praise him.

“You’re so hot. Your body looks so perfect wrapped up and strapped into this....this…” he might pause while so caught up in the moment, to look at Black Mask, Akechi, his enemy, up and down and savor him while in such a state of being exposed and pinned down. Joker might give his bottom lip a little nibbling bite to stop his pleased feline-esque smirk from growing too wide out of satisfaction. And Goro finds himself wanting to be completely devoured by this fantasy version of Joker that seems to only want to toy with him.

”What the fuck. I just can’t help myself. I wanna touch you everywhere. I wanna mess you up.” Joker would whisper in his ear while grinding his hips needily against his own. It was nice to know that the feelings were mutual. His breath is sweet and warm, the air is humid, they’re quickly composing an atmosphere together into something intimate and sinful.

“Don’t move honey, I don’t want to see your perfect skin all bloody,” Joker would teasingly say after he pulls his hands away from Akechi. He would brandish his knife and move to slice straight through his nemesis’ tight clothing, careful to stop the blade before his belly button and effortlessly rip the rest to split it down the middle, perfectly exposing the entirety of his abdomen. Goro shivered, perverted excitement crawling down his spine. He would watch in absolute awe as Joker would take his red glove off using his teeth and promptly stuff it in into Akechi’s mouth before licking each of his fingers seductively and giving his palm a nice, wet lap to let his hand finally, finally touch Goro’s cock without any obstructions between them.

Goro was mid-moan when his amoral dream was disrupted by the sound of someone opening the door to the public restroom to slowly shuffle inside. His eyes widened as he then heard the sound of someone going into the stall on the far end of his own.

“Wow, are you even more turned on than before? That’s pretty dirty.” Joker purred in his ear, as though he was standing in the stall with him, his chest to the detective’s back, not Goro’s, but his own hand working him from behind. But, wait, the face grazing and nibbling at his ear lobe was wearing glasses and he could feel the buttons of a uniform digging into his back, so...was this Joker? Or was it just Kurusu? They were one in the same after all. Goro was befuddled, his consciousness addled as he began to lose himself to a pleasure washed and mind fucked state. Reality was beginning to slip away and distort Goro, his excitement amped at the danger of someone catching him doing something so perverted in public.

 _Fuck you, you filthy deviant. You’re absolute trash, a disgusting delinquent,_ Black Mask spat in his hazy dream, trying to keep Goro sane _._

Goro quickly shoved his glove fully into his mouth to muffle himself better if a stray noise were to escape him. Joker, or Akira, just chuckled and continued to stroke him insistently, the pace quickening.

“And you’re getting off to this filthy deviant so what does that say about you? You aren’t a paragon of purity.”

Black Mask’s eyes narrowed, his breathing quickened and all resistance dissipated leaving only avid passion and profound clarity. He could feel his eyes rolling back into his head, a tightness in his core threatening to spill over. Goro was very, very close.

“You’re just as dirty.”

Goro was trying to bite back his wanton whimpering.

“Just as disgusting.”

It wasn’t working.

“Just as shameful as I am. So just let go. Let go and come for me, Akechi.”

Fireworks hit his vision in enormous, brightly lit explosions one after another, and it nearly knocked him off of his feet as he came in waves into his palm, the sticky white liquid messily spilling past his clenched hand all over the toilet seat and possibly elsewhere.

He managed to straighten out his knees as his instinct told him he needed to get out as fast as possible. Goro spat the slimy, chewed up glove into his one clean hand and shoved it into his pocket before exiting the stall. He cleaned his hands as quickly as he could with a grimace. This was all so unlike him. He heard the flushing of a toilet just as he was exiting and sighed when he was finally outside of the restroom and farther away from the possible embarrassing scenario. Goro checked his phone, anticipating a slew of angry messages waiting him, and was pleasantly surprised that there were no text messages and no missed calls. It seemed as though he was going to actually be able to enjoy his evening and didn’t have any assassination assignments to fulfil from his asshole administrator. Luck really was on his side today, and he smiled widely. As he began to take another step away from the restroom, he simultaneously reached for his pants pocket to get his glove and heard a voice call out to him.

“Ah! Akechi!”

Goro turned around to see none other but Kurusu Akira, and it took everything in him to look at him with a neutral expression and not choke over the fact that he had just fantasized about this same person jerking him off minutes ago.

“Oh, Kurusu. What a pleasant surprise!” he smiled brightly at the younger teen, an absolute beam of sunshine to conceal the curses bubbling and brewing in the dark recesses of his mind, “What brings you to Shibuya?”

Kurusu shrugged, the forced smile on his lips attempting to hide a small sadness very unlike the cheshire grin he wore earlier in the metaverse. His downtrodden state tugged at the strings of Goro’s heart, leaving him feeling perplexed.

“Just met up with some friends and I’m headed home to LeBlanc now. You?” his voice was flat and devoid of its gusto from earlier. Goro had been incredibly attracted to the confidence of Joker in the palace, but, as much as he tried to resist it, he was feeling sympathy and concern for his enemy.

“I too am on my way home for the evening, but I’ll need to find something for dinner first,” he ran ungloved fingers through his maple hair, and gave his head a little tilt, “Do you have any good suggestions? I’d like a change of pace from the regular and I trust your opinion on food. You are such an excellent barista, afterall. You always brew the perfect cup of coffee.”

Goro had a sweet and assuring twinkle in his expression when he asked. There. That should give him a small boost. It certainly seemed to as Kurusu’s eyes widened and that usual grin returned to his lips.

“Why don’t you join me for dinner? We could get some stuff from the conbini near my place and eat it up in the attic. I’ll brew you some of that coffee that you like so much, too. It’s on me. You game?”

Goro wanted to give him a solid No and retreat, but the idea actually sounded quite pleasant. He had already handled one delicate and dangerous situation flawlessly, and luck was on his side so he was feeling invincible. He found himself happily agreeing to the proposal, genuinely interested in spending time with Kurusu Akira, Joker.

“Before we go…” Kurusu took a step towards Goro.

And he could feel all of the color drain from his face in an instant as he realized there was an absence that normally enveloped his palm and what should’ve been in his pants pocket. One of Kurusu’s hands was in his pocket, his usual stance, but the other was outstretched to the detective and holding his disgusting chewed up, spit-soaked glove he had been incessantly moaning into prior to his euphoric orgasm minutes ago.

“I found this on the floor in the restroom. Is it yours?”

**Author's Note:**

> I've been working on this story for several months, but I've recently restored the drive to actually complete it. IMO, there needs to be more Black Mask porn floating around, so I am stepping up to fulfill my own disgusting desires. lol Hope yall liked it!  
> Edit- (late my bad) shout out to chromophilicdaydream for giving this a read and helping me edit and always encouraging me like the awesome best friend that they are!


End file.
